Stoplight III

Chapter 1

One

With her mouth gaping and eyes widened, Irish was frozen in a fear so chilling that she could barely feel her limbs. The loud sound of a gunshot pierced her ears, which temporarily suspended her hearing.

“Oh my God,” she professed breathlessly.

Jovanis was just in front of her, smiling painfully at the thought of them ending their marriage.

She’d just touched him and assured that she would always be his friend.

He was just there until he wasn’t. Irish watched in horror as his body violently dropped to the ground.

The masked man stood over him, shooting another bullet into his chest. It was so inhumane that she could barely watch.

Even through this horrific scene, Irish couldn’t move her feet.

After two shots, the masked man looked at her. It was then when Irish jumped back into her right mind. The gun lifted, centering on her before she ran.

Pow!

Her heart almost burst from the sound of the shot. She ran like her life depended on it. Ducking, she hoped her movements wouldn’t attract the bullets to enter her.

Pow! Pow!

Two more shots sounded in her ear, inciting her body to house more fear. Irish had never been this terrified. Her chest was tight with her stomach bubbling uncontrollably.

Pow! Pow! Pow!

Irish ducked under a bench, hoping this would’ve been enough to cover her. Her limbs shivered as she covered her head with her hands.

“God help me, God help me,” she chanted, praying for a miracle.

There were so many gunshots that Irish couldn’t keep up. All she did was close her eyes and pray that she wasn’t hit. Suddenly, they ceased. Still not wanting to look, she continued to keep her eyes closed until she was pulled from under the bench.

“Aarrgghhhh!” she screamed.

“Aye, chill,” a man’s voice said, “Noble sent me.”

Irish’s screams faded away as she looked at the guy in front of her. He was young, wearing a black hoodie over his head. In his hand was a gun that prompted her to crawl backwards.

“Get away from me,” she demanded with nervousness.

“Look, Noble sent me to make sure you was straight. Who the fuck was that shooting at you?”

Irish looked around, completely dumbfounded by everything. She didn’t know whether to believe this man or treat him like a suspect.

“Where were you?” She eyed him, skeptically.

“I was parked in the car right there.” He pointed toward the lot. “Noble said make sure Van don't do nothing crazy but fuck, I didn’t see that nigga come out the cut like that.”

Suddenly, Irish remembered Jovanis. Jumping to her feet, she ran over toward his body that laid on the grass. Blood leaked from his head and chest, making her heart palpitate.

“Van, get up. Please, Van, get up.”

His arms were so heavy as she tried to lift him. He didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.

“Van, please. Get up for me.”

He was so lifeless. Breath had evaporated from his body but Irish wouldn’t accept it. Maybe he was in a coma. Maybe he had temporarily lost consciousness.

“He’s gone.”

“No, no, no.” She shook her head, trying to lift him up. “No, he’s okay. We just gotta get him to a hospital.” Irish wouldn’t welcome this reality. She barely let the thought cross her mind before nixing it.

The guy kneeled down. “Irish, he’s gone.”

“No,” she cried. “He just need an ambulance. Call them!” she screamed. “Just call them for me!”

She pulled Jovanis up by his hoodie, cradling his head in her lap. Blood was everywhere, covering her clothes and skin.

“It’s okay, Van. Help is on the way,” she assured, rocking him back and forth.

Ol’ boy sighed, shaking his head. “It ain't no use. That nigga dead.”

As soon as the word dead penetrated her mind, Irish whimpered. How could this have happen? How did she not see the person lurking in the shadows? She could’ve warned Van that trouble was on the horizon. This was all her fault.

“We gotta get the fuck outta here. Your hand is bleeding.”

Irish wasn’t concerned with her wound. She didn’t care about any injury she’d sustained because her best friend was dead. Deceased. He was no longer in the land of the living, and that stole her soul.

“I’m not leaving him. I can’t.”

He groaned, clearly irritated by her insistence to stay. Sirens rang out in the distance as she cradled a lifeless Jovanis in her arms. She would have given anything to feel breath in his body again.

“Yo’ I got warrants so I can’t stay. I’ma hit Noble up and tell him what happened.”

Irish didn’t hear a thing he’d said. All she could replay in her mind was the conversation she’d just had with Jovanis.

They’d finally reached an agreement. Although it wasn’t in his favor, they’d had an understanding.

She was to be with Noble and he would finally let her go.

Irish didn’t expect Jovanis to let her go through his death.

She never thought their bond would be severed to this capacity.

“Jovanis, I’m so sorry.” She wept. “I never meant for this to happen.”

Irish had somehow inherited this burden. She’d picked the spot for them to meet, therefore luring Jovanis to his death. If she never would’ve summoned him to this park, he would’ve still been alive, telling her how much he loved her.

Red and blue lights dazzled across the park. A fire truck pulled up with an ambulance right behind it. People in uniforms jumped out the trucks, rushing over and carrying bags of equipment.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” one of the paramedics asked.

Irish shook her head, unable to voice how distraught she was.

They didn’t know she had just lost a piece of her heart.

They weren’t aware of how her life would be bleak without her best friend by her side.

These people, who saw trauma on a daily basis, didn’t know that this would forever change her.

“Ma’am, I need to ask you to please step aside.”

Irish couldn’t let go. She couldn’t release Jovanis into the realm of death. With her holding him tightly, she felt she could’ve transferred life into him. She could have brought him back if he felt the love that she possessed for him.

“Ma’am, please.”

Irish shook her head, clutching Jovanis’ head tighter. A woman came over on the side of her. There was a faint smile on her face as she planted her hand on Irish’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry you're suffering right now. At least allow us the chance to try and save him, okay?”

Irish peered into her eyes and spotted remorse. It was so strong that her tears clouded her vision.

“May we try to work on him?”

Subtly, Irish nodded. The woman helped her release the hold she’d had on Jovanis.

Absently, Irish scooted back, watching the paramedics try and revive him.

She knew already what the outcome was. In the depths of her soul, Jovanis was gone, and she would never be able to speak to him again.

There would be no hugs or no jokes about how fat her mother was.

He wouldn’t profess his love ever again.

Irish was so torn up that she couldn’t do anything but weep.

Time of death… 8:42 pm.

Cali had tunnel vision as she barged through the crowd, knocking over anyone in her path.

“Cali, don’t go over there.”

Bria’s words didn’t even caress Cali’s ears.

She didn’t want to hear anything but screams from the punches she was set to deliver.

The walk over to the other side of the beach party seemed longer than usual.

Cali locked her gaze on Rozalin and Rio.

They were hugged up, sharing a quick kiss that sent her pulse racing.

The couple was oblivious to the shock they had put Cali in.

She was so stunned that it felt like her body had been doused in ice cold water.

This had waken her up. The depressive fog she had been submerged in dissipated within an instant.

Rage stepped to the forefront, ready to make an entrance.

The closer Cali got, the more her body burned with fury.

She was so close that Rozalin didn’t see her coming.

“Bitch!” Cali screamed, knocking her over on the ground.

Rozalin didn’t have time to recover. Straightaway, Cali kicked her in the chest and started repeatedly punching her in the face.

“Oh, shit! These bitches fighting!” someone yelled out.

Cali felt possessed as she pummeled Rozalin’s head and kicked her body.

Images of Cali confiding in Rozalin about the ending of her marriage incited more anger.

All the months of being miserable over her divorce replayed in her mind like she was binging her favorite show.

Her arms wouldn’t stop. Whenever she saw the perfect opportunity, she replaced her fists with her foot.

“Cali, stop!” That was Bria’s voice. At least she thought it was.

She had trusted Rozalin, only for her to stick the knife in her spine. They hadn’t been best friends but she considered her to be her homegirl. She’d even done her hair for her wedding and now she was hugged up with the man who still owned her heart.

“Bitch you thought I wouldn’t find out!” Cali punched Rozalin in her temple. “You thought I was this fucking sweet! I’m about to kill you, hoe!”

“Get her off of me!” Rozalin screamed, trying her best to block Cali’s fists.

However, Cali was engulfed with a rage that didn’t allow her to control herself.

It continued to coach her like she was a boxer and it was her trainer.

What she heard was, Give her more. She needs to learn her lesson.

More punches. No, more kicks. Yeah, like that.

Cali was relentless until she was snatched back.

“I’m gonna whoop your bitch-ass every time I see you!” Cali promised while being carried away.

Her breaths were heavy as she suspired rapidly.

A strong pair of arms were locked around her waist as she was carried out of the party.

Cali should've been embarrassed that she was fighting but she felt justified.

Rozalin had fucked her over and deserved every lick that graced her pretty little face.